Through Grief and Pain
by clemi
Summary: They share the same loss, they understand each other's pain. And both are doomed to live on the east side of Tulsa for the rest of their lives. SodaxOC. R/R!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So I'm not sure how people will respond to this story, hopefully positively. I'm going to try hard to make sure the main character isn't a Mary Sue, so if I do please let me know. I know this chapter doesn't feature very much of the gang, but you'll be seeing a lot of them in the next couple chapters. **

**Enjoy!**

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**Chapter 1**

It's still dark outside when I wake up. And it's cold. Despite the sweat that mats my hair to my skin-from my latest nightmare-I have goose bumps. We don't have air conditioning or a heater in our house, so in the summer we rely on ice, in the winter we have to layer up even inside.

My door is open just enough so that I can see the kitchen light is on. I must not have been the only one with nightmares that night. It isn't very hard to guess who it is. Jo Helen sleeps like a rock, and Bobby is seven, he wouldn't be making the coffee I smell. My dad makes a mean cup of coffee.

The only sound I hear is Jo Helen's snores. I make my way through our little hallway, paint chipping off the wall, and pictures hanging off rusty nails. I don't enter the kitchen at first. His face is white. Hands hang limply at his sides. I notice his hair is getting grayer; there are wrinkles I hadn't noticed until now. An untouched mug of coffee sits on the countertop, steam curling around the rim, when I was little I use to pretend the steam was ghosts. And I would sweep my fingers through them, and make them disappear.

This isn't strange. We do this almost every night, and it's even worse this time of year, on this day. It surprises me that I didn't wake up, screaming for her to run, like I use to do.

"Dad?"

He turns his head a little to look at me. There are dark circles under his eyes, no doubt mine too. But he smiles, and it doesn't lack the genuine warmth I'm use to.

"Mary, baby, what are you doing up?" His voice is soft.

"I couldn't sleep." I take his hands-they're freezing. I wrap them around the mug of coffee. "You couldn't either, huh?"

"It's worse, especially today."

"I know, Dad." Was all I could think of to say. I didn't know how to make him better, and it was bothering the hell out of me.

He sighs and tries to rub the sleep out of his eyes. "I've got work in the morning."

"Why don't you try and get some sleep? I'll clean up in here." I say and take his arm leading him towards his bedroom.

"Are you sure."

"Yes, now get to bed."

I don't want to tell him the truth, that I'm afraid to go back to sleep because of the nightmares that are waiting. Some nights I'm lucky to get two hours rest. I start to clean up the kitchen, not that it really makes a difference. We don't have a nice house, or live in a nice neighborhood. But we make due.

When I'm done I go out on the porch and sit in her old rocking chair. The wind makes my teeth chatter a bit, it's cold, it's late fall. I don't know why I don't just go inside and get my jacket. But I like the way the wind makes me shiver a bit, it reminds me of my mother. It smells like dead leaves. My mother would always tell me how each season has a distinct smell. Spring smells like honey suckles and rain, summer smells like freshly mown grass, fall smells like dead leaves and fresh air, and winter was her favorite, like pine needles and peppermints.

She was raised up north. She spent her childhood catching snowflakes on her tongue, and making angels appear in the soft white snow. Everything beautiful reminds me of my mother, especially wood anemones. They grow in the forest behind our house, and sometimes I'll go out there and just smell them.

It's not long before the sky lightens, and I realize I've lost track of time. I'll have to get Jo and Bobby up for school soon, and work begins not very long after that. I've been sitting in that rocking chair for so long my fingers and toes have gone numb. I take a quick shower before I go wake up my siblings.

The lighting in the room is dim, and I can _just_ see my brother curled up in my sister's arms. They look alike. Honey blonde hair like mom's, if their eyes were open you could see a hazel they share with dad. Jo Helen is beautiful, even in sleep. She's only 12, but will be a real looker when she's older.

I shake them gently. Jo mumbles something incoherent and rolls over. Bobby shivers when she pulls her arms away from him. He's still small for a seven year old, so I tend to treat him as if he were still a toddler. I pick him up and carry him into the kitchen.

The rest of the morning blends together. A routine we've been keeping up for years. Jo comes out of the bathroom wearing too much eye makeup for a sixth grader, and runs away when I go to wipe it off of her face. Dad flies around the house grabbing his uniform, boots, belt, and kisses me on the cheek after grabbing a piece of toast. His carpool is waiting outside-honking the horn.

When I get into the car Jo is still pouting about the lipstick I "wasted". I swear that girl will be the death of me.

"Mom would've let me wear it." I hear her mumble. I pretend I didn't hear her, and how would she know anyway. She was only five when it happened.

When they get out of the car I want to grab them and drive them right back home. I'm afraid their little bodies, skinny from malnourishment, will be trampled in the wave of students. I feel this every morning I drop them off, I tell myself it's just because of what happened to mom. I'm just paranoid.

There's a sinking feeling in my gut when I see the car's low on gas. I'll have to start walking places. We can't afford the bills, let alone food, if we keep spending so much on things like _gas_. I head towards the nearest DX. Unfortunately it's the one where all those girls hang out, socy and greasy.

I stopped keeping up with the gossip when I dropped out, not that I ever had to begin with. It's surprisingly empty when I pull in. I guess it's because it's a Monday morning. And then I remember again, today is the day. And I feel bitter and cold. It's hard for me not to snap at the DX worker who comes to help me fill up. He's handsome, no wonder all the girls flock over here.

"How are you doing this morning, miss?" He smiles at me. He's charming.

I smile faintly. "Fine." I don't bother to make small talk. I can't do it, not today. The boy studies me, and I give him a peculiar look.

"You seem familiar…" He rubs his chin. "You waitress at the Dingo?"

"Sure do."

"I'm going for lunch there with a few of my buddies. Guess I'll see you then, miss." He gives me one last grin, tips his hat and walks off after I pay him. Boy, he was charming.

I decide to head over to work a little early. Maybe I can pick up an extra shift. I put on my dress and apron in the bathroom. The Dingo is a pretty rough hang out, but it puts food on the table. It didn't take long for us to figure out that my dad's job at the factory just wouldn't cut it. It wasn't a surprise that I dropped out, I was from the east side. I had wanted to go to college though. It didn't matter if I had finished high school or not. My grades weren't good enough for a scholarship, and we didn't have enough money.

The only people there are a few old guys, probably grabbing breakfast before work, and a few of Shepard's gang. Most of the other waitresses arrive late. The owner is real understanding and all, most of them are teen mom's, who have babies to take care of. It's not long before people start pouring in. I take orders left and right. I almost dropped full trays of food twice.

I hear some ruckus behind me, and turn to see Ruth yelling at a big table of guys. She's the spitfire of the diner. The customers always target her because they know they'll get a reaction. You'll hear her cursing like a sailor most of the time, I've seen her break a chair over someone's head. Me? I learned how to hold my tongue a long time ago. I'm not some sort of robot, but my family relies on this job. So I do what I have to, I can't go breaking chairs over customer's heads.

You never see socs come in here nowadays. The war between the social classes has become dangerous in the last few years. Greasers will get jumped if they walk by themselves. I haven't been apart of that fight for a few years. Out in the real world you see how silly gang fights and social class wars are. Out in the real world you get a taste of reality, and it is a bitter, bitter, taste.

I feel angry. Watching all the customers talk and laugh like it's the best day of their damn lives. And to them it _is_ just another day. But it isn't really, at least not to me.

I go up to the next table to take their order. I stare down at my notepad waiting for them to start.

"Hi there." I hear the familiar voice, and look up to meet a familiar pair of brown eyes.

"Hi yourself." I say and can't help but smile. He's with two other greasers. The one with the rusty sideburns is a wisecracker, I can tell. He has a goofy grin and his eyebrows move around more than his mouth.

"How do you know this filthy greaser?" The wisecracker grins and gestures toward the DX worker.

"We met earlier at the DX, I'm Soda by the way." He sticks out his hand.

"Mary." I shake in return.

That's as far as the conversation went. I'm busy and as far as I can tell I won't see any of these guys for a while. I'm relieved when the day is finally over. The boss let me get off early lately so I could go and pick Jo and Bobby up from school. I don't want them wandering the streets alone, at the mercy of any hood that comes along.

Bobby get's into the car first. His hazel eyes are bight and cheerful, and he talks so fast I can hardly tell what he's saying. He's like a little drop of sunshine. There's never really a bad day with Bobby, he can think of the bright side of any situation. But I know it won't last, not for kids on our side of town, not for kids from families like ours.

When Jo get's in the car it's a whole other story.

"Are you OK, I got here early like you asked me too." I study her closely. Her face is flushed and her hair is disheveled, she must've run from her last class.

"I'm fine." She grumbles and leans her head against the window.

Jo Helen is her own person. She's just as much of a spitfire as Ruth down at the Dingo is. She's moody. Whenever I wake her up, I can't tell if she's going to scream at me or hug me. But I can't blame her for being snippy today, even if she's too young to remember.

When I pull into our driveway, Bobby is out of the car like a rocket. Probably wants to go hang up the macaroni picture he showed me.

"Wait a second, Jo, I want to talk to you." I put a hand on her shoulder when she turns to open her door. I see her hesitate, and for a second I think she's just going to ignore me.

"What about?" She asks.

"Did something happen at school today?"

She gives me a sideways glance, "Maybe."

"You want to tell me about it?" I use the gentlest voice I possibly can, if you push Jo she just shuts down. You have to be careful, talking to that girl is like walking through a minefield.

"Vicky Kirk." Is all she says. But it's all she needs to, I know all about Vicky Kirk. Her older sister went to high school with me, and as far as I can tell, Vicky is a mini version of her. She bullies any greaser she lays eyes on. Which usually happens to be Jo. "Are we…she said we were…white trash."

I narrow my eyes. "What else did she say?"

"She talked about you, and dad…and mom."

"What did she say, Jo." I try to keep from growling.

"She said I was so ugly, mom dropped dead when she saw my face for the first time. Then she said the reason you dropped out was because you were too stupid to stay in school, a-and then…" Jo Helen is close to tears, she stares down at her lap, not willing to meet my eyes. Which is probably a good idea because I'm seething.

"What did you do?" I know Jo wouldn't be able to just walk away from a situation like that.

"I…I hit her." She gives me a fearful look, then goes back to staring at her lap. "And now she's going to tell on me, and then I'll have to go see the principal."

I stare ahead, mulling over her words. I should feel angry but instead I just feel, _proud_. So when I smile at her, it comes as no surprise that she gives me a bewildered look.

"Aren't you mad at me?"

"No, if I wouldn't get sent to prison, I'd have done the same thing." My smile fades. "You are going to have to see the principle though, either that or we'll be hearing from Mrs. Kirk."

Jo asks in a small voice "Was all that stuff she said true?"

"Jo Helen, you know what happened to mom wasn't because you were ugly. You are beautiful, you know that. And I dropped out because you and Bobby are what matter most to me."

"Why did it have to happen to us?" She says, her tears now angry.

"I don't know."

"All my friends get to go shopping with their moms, and they have moms to do their hair and help them with their homework. How come I'm the only who doesn't get to?" She starts to sob. "It isn't fair!"

"I understand, honey." I say and try to pull her into a hug, but she pushes me away.

"No you don't! You got ten years with her, I only got five!" She starts to tremble and hiccup from suppressed sobs. I just want her to stop crying, I can't stand to see her cry.

"Jo," I say and have to hold back a few tears of my own. "I know I'm not mom, but I'm here for you."

"It isn't the same." She runs out of the car, whether she's going into the woods or into the house, I'm not sure.

I sit in the driver's seat and begin to cry. All the feelings I've held back today start to come to the surface. My chest hurts so bad it's hard to breathe. Heavy sobs rack my body, and short gasps escape me. At one point I have to put a hand over my mouth to keep form being too loud. I won't let anyone see me like this, _no _one. How many times had I asked myself the same question? Why did it have to be us? Why was I the only one who lost a mother? Seven years later, and I still haven't gotten over it. Once I've shed my last tear and pulled myself together, I walk into the house.

Dad won't be home from the factory for a few hours. So I pull out the eggs, milk, flower, sugar, etc. And I set to work. When I've let it cool, and put the icing and lit the candle and everything, I just let the cupcake sit there. Today is the anniversary of my mother's murder, and it's also my 18th birthday.

I blow out the candle and take a bite. It tastes bitter.

"Happy birthday to me." I say.

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**A/N: I'll be responding to reviews. Thanks for reading loves! **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: So the last chapter was a tad depressing...yeah. So I tried to make this one a little more light hearted. Well at least he beginning is.**

_**SarcasmIsTheBestDefense:**_**Thank you! I hope you like this chapter.****  
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**Enjoy!**

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"Can I get you anything?"

The man glances at me, then goes back to reading his paper. "More coffee."

It's getting dark outside, it's Saturday. I have to work a triple shift today, I won't be done for another hour or two. My arms are sore from carrying trays around and pieces of hair are falling out of my ponytail into my face.

Saturday is always the worst, the nights especially. It's too loud and I can barely hear myself think. I start to ask myself why the hell I chose to be a waitress. I'm not friendly, or charming. I don't get very many tips.

Lisa, probably my favorite girl at the diner, meets me behind the counter. Her situation isn't unlike my own. She's got hungry mouths to feed at home. Her dad's a deadbeat, she's a year older.

"Will this day ever end?" She starts to make a chocolate milkshake.

"Well it's Saturday so…no."

Lisa smirks at me and rolls her eyes. "This is the fourth chocolate milkshake I've made. That bitch over there," She nods her head to a table by the window. "Keeps telling me something's wrong with it. _It's too cold, there's not enough whip cream, it's too frothy, you forgot my cherry._" She gives a high pitched nasally imitation of the woman. I believe that was her voice. She's wearing a pearl necklace and her makeup is actually reasonable. She's a soc, no doubt about it.

Ruth walks up behind us and slings an arm around our shoulders. "If I was you, I'd put a little surprise in there." She shoots the lady an evil grin before taking the milkshake and hawking a loogie in it. She stirs it up cocking an eyebrow at both of us.

Lisa and I stare at her in horror and amusement. I look around to see if anyone saw us. I don't catch anyone's eye so I turn back to Ruth trying not to laugh.

"Remind me never to get on your bad side again." Lisa shakes her head and chuckles. "Mary, do you mind taking this over there. I don't know if I can have one more conversation with that dragon lady without cleaning her clock."

"Fine but you got to get table five." I hand her a fresh tray of food and take the milkshake.

"Here you go, ma'am." I smile and set the milkshake down on the table.

"Where'd the other waitress go? The…the gangly one." She squints at me.

I bite my lip. Think of a lie Mary, think, think. "Oh, uh…there was just a mix up with…orders…tables…one of the waitresses is ou-"

"Oh, god, please…please stop talking. You're mumbling, mumbling really isn't attractive, dear." She studies me and shakes her head. I can't wait to see her choke on loogie.

"Well if you don't need anything else, I should pro-"

"Wait, I need to make sure nothing's wrong with it."

I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. "Yes, ma'am."

She takes a sip, then another. After she smacks her lips together and narrows her eyes. I struggle not to fall on the ground laughing, and apart of me is screaming to run because I'm about to get caught.

But she smiles faintly. "This is delicious." She takes another big sip. "Mhmm, what do you put in this?"

I clear my throat. "Oh, some ice cream, milk, chocolate," I lean in closer as if I'm about to tell her something really important. "And our secret ingredient." I grin and bite my lip.

She smiles and puts a hand over her mouth. "Oh, oh my…well…what is it?"

I sigh. "I'm so sorry ma'am, I'm not suppose to say. But it starts with an S."

She smiles at me again. "Well, it's nice to know this place has at least one person who knows what they're doing."

"Thank you." I give her another fake smile and turn to walk back to the counter.

I catch a group of hoods staring at me, some of them covering there mouths to keep from rolling on the floor in fits of hysterics, some just look at me in approval. I guess our little stunt didn't go unseen after all. Ruth and Lisa are burying their faces in their hands.

Lisa wipes a tear from her face. "Oh, that was priceless."

"Hey," The manager walks out of his office-more like a broom closet-and scowls at us. "You ain't getting paid to stand around and chitchat. Hop to it."

After that the people and orders just blend together. Except for one guy, who has been here since five o'clock. He just keeps asking me for more coffee, and staring at the same newspaper. But I've seen people do stranger things at the Dingo.

I'm taking the order of someone from Tim's outfit when I hear it. A faint yelling, coming from the back. I ignore it at first, probably just Mike and Goldie at it again. They're always fighting about the right way to cook a burger. Since when, is there more than one-way to cook a burger?

But I hear it again, but louder this time, when I was carrying a huge platter of food to the same table. Boy, greasers could eat, I wondered how they never got sick to their stomachs after eating a double cheese, two plates of fries, and half a pie. I hear a loud bang and nearly drop the whole tray on the guy because I jump so high.

"'Scuse me," I say and head towards the back. The "back" of the Dingo, is basically a small room with four or five lockers. The girls sometimes come back here if they want a smoke or just to get away from crazy customers.

Before I can open the door, it bangs open and Ruth comes walking out, the man who had asked for coffee right on her heels. Her face is flushed and her mouth is set in a thin line, which can only mean one thing. She. Is. Pissed. And I'm not talking about break a chair over your head pissed, I'm talking about cut out your tongue pissed. And I know for a fact that she carries a 10-inch switchblade on her at all times.

I follow them back to the front, now they don't seem to care about discretion.

"I don't like getting stood up." He growls. He has thick greasy hair, a five o'clock shadow, and his arms are inked with tattoos.

"I didn't stand you up, you didn't show up on time, so I left." Ruth growls back.

"I had some stuff I needed to take care of. You should've waited for me."

"Don't tell me what I should've done." She explodes, she has a glass clutched in her hand. I stare at it, she's squeezing it hard enough I think it's going to shatter.

"Don't talk to me like that." He grabs her wrist.

"Don't you touch me!" She raises her hand, and I know she's going to slap him.

"Woah, cool it." I put my hand on their shoulders and do my best to push them both back a little. It was probably the dumbest thing I could've done.

"This ain't any of your business, girly." The guy says and shoves my hand away.

"As long as you're doing it at this diner, it is my business. And as long as you're harassing one of my coworkers it is. So. Cool. It." I raise my voice a little.

He scowls at me, and doesn't see Ruth's hand coming. Her palm makes a loud crack when it makes contact with his face. I feel myself being shoved, hard, out of the way. I try to grab the counter to steady myself, but I end up knocking over a couple of plates. I hear them break on the floor, and there's sharp pain in my left hand. I lift it up to see I'm bleeding, and there are bits of ceramic plate stuck in my hand.

A couple of greasers are holding the guy back, and a few hold Ruth back too. She's flipped out her switchblade and looks downright murderous. The manager has come out by now, and I think he says something about calling the police. I feel a pair of hands on my arm pull me to my feet.

"Are you alright?" I turn to see Soda looking at me with a concerned expression.

"Peachy," I look back in time to see the guy escorted out of the diner by a few cops.

"Let me help you with your hand." I stay silent as he leads me over to a table and leaves to get a first aid kit. I don't notice he's back until I feel his slender fingers on my hand again. "That's some cut you got there."

"You a nurse or something?" I study him.

He cracks a smile and takes out some peroxide to clean the wound. "You pick up these things when you live in a house full of boys. It comes in handy after rumbles."

I forget he's a greaser. He doesn't seem like one. If he didn't grease back his hair and if I hadn't seen him at the DX, I would've never guessed. I feel an intense sting in my palm and wince.

"Sorry." After he cleans it he takes out the rest of the little pieces stuck in my skin. It isn't a pleasant process. He keeps giving me apologetic looks.

"You didn't have to do this."

"Well I wanted to. I still can't decide if that was brave or stupid."

I raise an eyebrow. "You mean breaking up the fight?" He nods, I shrug. "If I had known I was going to get my hand all banged up, I wouldn't have done it."

"Maybe not, but you did. And I still think it was pretty brave, stepping up to that hood. I swear he could give Dallas Winston a run for his money."

I smile. "You friends with Dallas?" I had heard many stories of Dallas Winston, I might've met him once or twice at the Dingo or Buck's.

"Yeah, we're in the same gang."

"What's a nice guy like you doing hanging out with Dallas Winston."

"You forget, I'm a greaser too."

I shake my head. "You wear grease in your hair, and you come from the wrong side of town. That's about as far as the greaser standard goes for you. You don't seem the type to have a criminal record."

"I think you may need stitches."

I sigh. "You know how to sew?"

He widens his eyes at me, and raises his eyebrows. "Are you joking?" I shake my head. "You really think you can do that without pain killers?"

I bite my lip. "No…but I don't think I can pay for a hospital bill right now."

"Rough at home?"

I give him a quizzical look. People never ask me how my home life is. I'm a greaser, people assume I either have alcoholic parents, or they're dead.

"We've just had a hard time making ends meet ever since…" I trail off, I didn't want to tell him about my mom just yet. But he nods his head as if he understands.

"I have a younger brother, my older one works two jobs to support us."

"How old are you?"

"16," He glances up from my hand. "I'll be 17 in a few weeks."

He seems older. "I was 16 when I dropped out."

He nods his head but seems quiet all of a sudden. It doesn't suit him, he's so alive when he talks. I like the way he talks.

"What are your brothers like?"

He looks up at me and his face lights up. His warm brown eyes are sparkling and he's grinning like a lunatic. He looks gorgeous.

"My brother, Ponyboy, he's 14. But boy, he's smart. He's always reading something. If anyone's going to get out of this town and make it out there, it'll be him." I smile at him. "What about you?"

I sigh. "There's Jo Helen, she's 12, but she dresses like a 16-year-old, and acts like a five-year-old. She is feisty. Then, Bobby, he's seven. He's about the happiest person I've ever met. He reminds me of…" I trail off again. Soda's nice, but some things are just too private.

"Aw, shoot," He finishes tying a bandage around my hand and gets up out of his chair. "I got to get home."

"Thanks…for fixing me up."

He gives me his trademark smile. "Don't mention it. I'll see you around, Mary."

I smile and wave him goodbye. He really is charming.

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**A/N: I hope you'll liked it. I'd appreciate some feedback on the characters (canon and OC) I just want to make sure I'm not creating a Mary Sue or making Soda OOC. I hope this chapter taught you'll an important lesson...don't screw around with waiters, unless you want spit in your food. **

**Please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I have no idea where I got the inspiration for this chapter.**

**_Jenna: _Me too :), and thanks  
**

**_Sodapop'sAce14: _How can you not like Soda? He's adorable, and thanks!  
**

**_Hailey98Lynn: _Thanks, hope this chapter doesn't disappoint  
**

**Warning: Contains reference to rape (non-graphic) **

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I make Jo Helen and Bobby ride the bus. We can't afford to drive them to school and then me to work, and I have extra shifts at the Dingo. Neither of them seems to mind, when I tell Bobby he is excited. I'm more worried about telling Jo, but she seems indifferent. I am still worried. Jo is a good liar-she would make one hell of a crook. She and Bobby are complete opposites. Bobby is an open book. His hazel eyes are so big and clear and innocent it's impossible not to tell when he's bluffing. Jo's used to be like that too, but over the years it's seems that the innocence has just been sucked out of them. They are cold. It's hard to believe she got them from dad.

It's Tuesday, it's pretty empty in the Dingo. I haven't talked to Sodapop Curtis since Saturday night, when he patched up my hand. It's still pretty banged up. But I hope it leaves some sort of battle scar-it may seem childish. I've always liked scars. They are flaws, just on the outside. They make pretty people seem a bit more human. Plus there's always a good story behind them.

It hurts to carry heavy trays on it, but luckily it's my left hand, so I'm still competent. I don't like it when the Dingo is this quiet. I have that feeling like right before a tornado hits, where you just know something bad is going to happen. I keep looking over my shoulder, like I can feel someone watching me. But every time I turn to look out the window there's no one. I guess I am going crazy.

Time passes by slowly. It feels like I've been at the Dingo for two days instead of one. Usually there's some entertaining customer to keep me occupied. But today there are only a couple of old construction workers. So it's just my thoughts and I, which really isn't a good thing. You see when I have time to think, I think way too much. I over analyze everything and start to worry something awful. Once, on a day like this, I tried to remember if I had left the laundry out on the clothesline. It had been raining, so I started to get real worried. I couldn't stop thinking about, so I headed out early _just_ to check and see. I can never just forget about things. Like, Sodapop Curtis for example.

By the time I was ready to go, Ruth was the only one left in the diner.

"You need a ride, Ruth?" I motion towards my old beat up car, I'm not embarrassed like I would've been if Ruth were a soc. She's my kind, she understands.

She groans. "I wish, the boss is making me clean up. I guess he's still pissed about what happened the other night."

"He'll get over it." I wave goodbye. "See you tomorrow."

My dad still isn't back when I get home. It isn't dark yet so it's not that unusual. I have been working since seven this morning. I guess my internal clock is all screwed up or something.

"I'm home," I call.

Jo Helen sits on the couch watching TV. Bobby at her feet colors a picture. Jo hardly looks up when I open the door, but Bobby's face lights up.

"Hey, sissy!" He jumps up and throws his arms around my waist. That boy has got a grip.

"What have you got there, Bob?"

He hands me his picture, I have no idea what it is. "Loo, look! I made it for you!"

"Thank you, is that me?"

He rolls his eyes. "That's a tree, Mary. That's you." He points to an orange blob with two blue dots, where I assume the face is, and a scribble of dark brown on top.

"That's great, Bob, I'll go hang it up on the fridge. That way dad will see it when he gets home." I walk over to the fridge, Bobby close on my heels, and take a magnet and stick it right up front.

I shiver. I just realize how chilly it is in here. I notice that Jo and Bobby both have their jackets on. I want to kick myself. I forgot my sweater back at the Dingo. It was my mom's sweater, one of her favorites.

"Jo, can you watch Bobby till I get back."

She looks up form the TV. "Where are you going?"

"I left my sweater at the Dingo, I'll be back soon. Or dad will." I call before leaving the house again.

The drive from my house to the Dingo isn't a long one. In fact I could probably walk there. But I know better than to wander the streets alone on this side of town. And I'm not just talking about socs.

The lights are off in the Dingo, and I pray that Ruth hasn't left yet. But I feel a sick feeling start in my stomach as I see the door. Someone has broken through the glass. With a brick or a fist, I have no idea. It's eerily quiet when I walk in. I can see a lamp flickering in the back of the kitchen. Someone must've robbed the place.

I look around silently, searching for something to defend myself with. I remember the baseball bat the manager keeps behind the hostess podium-which we mainly use for storage now. I squeeze the handle so hard my knuckles turn white.

I can hear some noise coming from the kitchen so I start to make my way back there. I'm an idiot. If it's me against a 200lb male, I don't stand a chance. But I keep moving forward anyway.

My face turns white when I find her.

"He's gone. You can put that thing down." She says. It sounds like Ruth, same sarcastic tone to her voice. She sounds hoarse, like she's been screaming or something.

"What happened?" I set down the bat and kneel in front of her. Her face is badly bruised-one of her eyes is even swollen shut. Her bottom lip is bleeding, her wrist is swollen and discolored, maybe broken.

"A guy mugged me, he took my wallet. I would've given it to him if he had just let me talk for five seconds without hitting me." She runs her tongue over the part that's swelling and winces.

"No you wouldn't."

She nods and tries to give me a smile, but it comes out more as a grimace. "Yeah, I wouldn't have."

A few plates lay broken on the floor, shards from the lamp above are scattered around us too. The boss won't be happy about this.

Ruth follows my line of sight. "I expect he'll fire me. After all the trouble I've been causing."

"Let's get you cleaned up, then we'll worry about the mess." I get up to go get the first aid kit, but Ruth stops me.

"Could you…I don't know if I can stand very well." She doesn't meet my eyes.

"Sure." I lean down so she can wrap and arm around my shoulders. Her legs shake something awful. I know she can't help it, but she puts basically her entire body-weight on me. Which isn't too comfortable considering she's taller than I am. Her body is tense and her breathing is uneven. That guy sure did a number on her. I sit her down in a chair. When I come back with the first aid kit she's staring out the window with a blank look.

"What hurts most?"

She jumps in her chair like she hadn't noticed me. "My wrist, but I don't think you can do much for that."

"Ruth…you might need to go the hospital."

"I don't need to, just put some bandages on it."

I sigh. "Ruth, you really need to-"

"Oh, like you went to the hospital the other day? When your hand was all sliced up?"

I ignore her and get out the peroxide and cotton balls. When I move to clean her lip she flinches away.

"Can you get me a mirror? I…think I'd rather do that myself." She licks her lips when I give her a quizzical look, "It hurts real bad is all."

Once her cut is clean and I've put a bandage around her wrist-which isn't going to do much-we decided to take a look at the mess.

"Do you think you can walk?"

She nods. Her legs are still a little wobbly, put she doesn't fall flat on her face. I take that as a good sign.

The kitchen looks even worse than I remember. Broken plates and glass are everywhere on the floor. Blood is smeared over part of it. I get a broom and start to sweep the place. It isn't long before I find something that gives me an even sicker feeling than when I saw the door.

I hold up Ruth's underwear. "He didn't just take your wallet…did he?"

I start to notice little details I hadn't before. The bruise in the shape of finger prints on her other wrist. The bite marks on her neck. Her eyes are watery and wide and scared, her face pale as she takes in the scene. She shakes her head.

I start to walk towards her cautiously. "Ruth?" I say it as gently as possible.

"Don't." She looks at me and gives me a disgusted look.

"Don't what?"

"Don't you feel sorry for me."

I bite my lip. "I think we need to get you to the hospital."

"I don't want them to see me like this."

"We need to get you help, Ruth."

"I'm not a little girl, I don't need to be taken care of."

"You were ra-"

"No!" She screams. "They don't know anything, and neither do you. I was _mugged_, that's all. I wasn't ra…" She chokes on the last word and holds back tears. "That's the story, OK?"

I nod. I nod because it's none of my business. I nod because I don't understand, so it's not my place to tell her what she should and shouldn't do. I nod even thought it's killing me on the inside. So, it may be wrong, but I say something anyway.

"He could do it to someone else. You could stop it. You could get him locked up. All you have to do is come to the hospital with me."

Her back is to me, and when her voice comes out it's strained, like she's trying not to cry. "Then everyone will know."

"I'm very good at keeping secrets, Ruth. Only other people who'll know are the doctors and the cops."

We stand there in silence for what seems like forever. She walks away and at first I think she doesn't want to take me up on my deal. But when I walk out I see her sitting in the passenger seat.

When I get in she tells me "You forgot to lock the doors. Smart." And then she's, just, Ruth again. She's not the broken girl from the kitchen, just tough and sarcastic Ruth.

I curse when I see I'm low on gas, Ruth sees it too. "I'll make it quick." I tell her.

I pull into the nearest DX station.

"Hi, Mary." Soda gives me a sweet smile, and I can't help but smile back.

"I didn't know you work this late."

He shrugs "I was actually just about to close up. Lucky you caught me." He looks into the front windshield. "Is that Ruth?"

Ruth is looking down, anywhere besides our faces really. It's not hard to see the bruises or the cut though. I don't have tinted windows.

Soda glances at me. "Is she OK?

"Oh, yeah…she just slipped at work."

He doesn't believe me, but he's sweet enough not to make a scene. He just smiles and takes the money I owe him. He turns to leave but looks back at me. "You want to go out sometime?"

I can feel myself blushing something fierce. I smile. I sure do smile a lot when I'm around him. "Yeah, I do."

"Friday, I'll pick you up after work. When do you get off?"

"Six o'clock."

He winks at me. "See you then."

My face is still red after he walks away.

"He asked you out, didn't he?" Ruth says when I get back into the car.

I nod.

"How wonderful for you." She says, there's a bitter under tone beneath her sarcastic comment.

"You ready?"

She nods and licks her lip again. "And…thanks, Mary. Thanks a bunch."

I want to kill the sick bastard who did this to her.

* * *

**A/N: I hope you'll liked it. Please review, and thanks to everyone who already has!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Jeez, sorry for the long wait. I've been really busy lately. This chapter really isn't long enough to make up for it, but here ya go!**

**_Hailey98Lynn: _Thank you so much! I hope you like this chapter just as much.  
**

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I gather a few things from the bag that's in my locker. I don't have time to go home and change, so I decide to just do it in the back room of the Dingo. I have a date with Sodapop Curtis tonight. I can't decide whether I'm more excited or nervous. I haven't been on a date for a while.

"That's a pretty dress." Ruth says after she walks in. Her wrist is in a cast, but she still helps around. She can't afford to lose this job either.

I look at the dress on the hanger. "It was my mom's." She'd let me try it on all the time. She'd say that I could wear it out on my 16th birthday. She never did get to see that.

"It matches your eyes."

"Are you doing OK, if you wa-"

"Don't…just," She takes a deep breathe and forces a smile. "I don't want you worrying about me tonight, you've done enough. Staying at the hospital with me…and covering all those shifts, you've been spectacular, Mary. Let me help you get ready."

I smile and sit down. She's gentle with my hair; I never thought she could be gentle with anything. She winds up curling it, I've learned from many painful experiences, that my hair doesn't look so good all teased up. I tried to rock a bouffant once for picture day, I looked like someone had glued cotton candy to my head.

After she suffocates me with hairspray, Ruth moves on to my makeup.

"Don't make me look like a whore," I smirk.

She shakes her head at me. "Well it's a good thing you said something."

It takes her a while longer to do my makeup since she only has one hand. But I trust her, Ruth knows more about this stuff than me. Ruth is one of the best-looking greaser chicks I've seen, except for Angela Shepard. If I had a nickel for every love struck, big eyed, dopey grinned boy that came wandering into the Dingo looking for Ruth, I'd be pretty damn rich.

"Go and put that thing on." She nods her head toward the dress.

I just want to see what I look like. I feel like I'm still seven years old, sitting on the chair in front of my mother's vanity, while she puts blush and lipstick on me. I try to wriggle out of her grasp to get a look at myself in the mirror, but she laughs and tells me to sit still.

I slip the smooth fabric over my head and zip it up. I walk out of the bathroom.

Ruth smiles at me. "You look nice. Oh and…the boss wants to see you." She looks confused when she says the last part. It's no secret we hardly ever interact with Buddy-unless he wants to yell at us.

He's been drinking. He's not drunk, just a little buzzed.

"What can I do for you, Buddy?"

He gestures to the chair across from him at the table. I'm just glad he didn't expect me to sit in his lap.

We sit for a while. I look at the floor, the table, the wall, the window, but not his eyes. He just stares at me.

"Seeing you in that dress…you remind me of your mama." He says softly.

"I didn't know you knew her."

He nods and smiles. "I knew Sarah. She sure was something your mother."

I prop my chin up with my hand. I never really like when people try to tell me about my mother, because usually it starts with "I'm sorry", they always remind me that she's gone. But, the way Buddy talks, with a soft voice, a far off look. It makes me feel…happy.

"Tell me more."

"She moved here the summer we were sixteen. Boy, she was a knockout. But it-it was more than those blue eyes of hers, it was just…her. You remember what she was like, don't you?"

I nod my head a little. "I remember."

He smiles. "The first time I ever met her, I was the milkshake boy here at the time. She walked through the door, and smiled at me, I spilled milkshake," He laughs, "All over that poor woman's dress. I had really stepped in it that day, but I got to meet Sarah."

"Did you ask her out?"

He shook his head "No, but you should have seen the way we chased after her. She was something."

"Why didn't you ever tell me this?"

He shrugs; he is still a little out of it. His eyes are glazed over. "I remember when you came in here, you were 14 or 15. You were so young to look so…tired, boy you were a skinny little thing. And you have her eyes, and her smile, so I," He waves his hand around, "I hired you."

I nod. "You hired me because of her."

"Well, it sure as hell wasn't because of your damn charm or people skills."

"Tell me more about her."

He shakes his head. "I'm too drunk and tired for that, girl. Besides I think there's someone waiting for you," He gestures toward the door.

Sodapop is there, in a button down shirt. He looks so handsome, with his hair greased back and sweet smile. That smile makes me weak at the knees. I take one last look at Buddy, before I walk outside.

I smile at him. "Hi."

"You look beautiful, Mary."

I smile again when he holds out his arm to me.

"You know I haven't been completely honest with you." Soda says. His eyes sparkle from across the table.

"About what?"

He chuckles, "Well, it might sound stupid, but…I knew who you were before we met at the Dingo."

I cock my head to the side. "How?"

"Our moms knew each other from the hospital."

"Your mom was Anne?" I ask. He nods. I remember my mom describing a friend, Anne. She said she was one of the smartest people she ever met. She said she was golden and beautiful. "So you know?"

"Yeah, my dad read about what happened to your mom in the paper. My mom had me help her make the casserole she gave to you'll."

"That was one of the best casserole's I've ever had." I smile. He does too. "What do you want to be when you're older?"

"I work at the DX."

I shrug. "Yeah, but let's say you didn't, what would you want to do?"

"You know, I never really thought about it. There was no way in hell I could get into college…there still isn't."

"Why do you say that?"

"I don't know," He shakes his head, "I never had good grades, only thing I was passing was auto mechanics…and gym. I'm not really known for being a braniac, that's Ponyboy."

"I think you're smart, just in a different way."

He smiles. "Like how?"

"You understand people, and you listen." I shrug. "There's not a lot of kids on the east side that do that, you're one of a kind, Sodapop."

He gives me his trademark grin. "You sure are something." He glances around at the restaurant we are in. "This place is full of squares. What do you say we get out here and go dancing?"

I laugh and take his hand as we walk out the door. I don't know when the last time is I've felt so alive.

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**A/N: Don't be afraid to review! **


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Let me first just apologize for the really long wait, I hope some of you guys have stuck around. This chapter is pretty fluffy (by my standards).**

**Enjoy!**

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My mother was warm, despite the cold she grew up in and was accustomed to. She was kind and compassionate and generous to a fault. When I look back on it, I think she was a little naïve. She thought she could save people, I guess that's why she became a nurse. But, she'd get too attached. It wasn't uncommon for me to come home afterschool, and hear her crying softly in her room. My mother was soft, and sweet, and a hopeless romantic. Her favorite book was Pride and Prejudice; she named me for Jane Austen. Her favorite play was Romeo and Juliet.

Sometimes I wonder how we could be so different yet get along so well. I'm my father's daughter. But in some ways I do see it. She was imaginative where I was realistic, she was passionate where I was reliable, she was energetic where I was reserved, and she was accepting where I was stubborn. I'd rather be like her, I'd wished for it, ached to be just like her. But I suppose it couldn't be helped. I was just like the Shepards and Dallas Winston, a consequence of my environment. That didn't stop me from falling hard for Sodapop Curtis. And boy, do I mean hard.

"It makes me nervous, girl." Ruth slides up next to me behind the counter at the Dingo.

"What does?"

She rolls her eyes, as if I should know exactly what she's talking about. "Don't play dumb." I shrug at her and she rolls her eyes again. "You and him."

I smile. "What about us makes you nervous?"

She turns away from me and starts pouring salt and pepper into the empty shakers. "I don't know, maybe it's the way he looks at you and you look at him."

"What is this _look_ exactly?"

She shakes her head at me. "You think you're real funny, don't you?"

I can't help the small laugh that bubbles in my chest. "No, I really am curious."

"You look at each other like you're in love."

"Maybe we are," I tuck a few pieces of hair behind my ear.

"All right lovebird," She spins me around so I'm facing her. "You listen good, you don't want to go rushing things with a boy like that."

"Excuse me? Soda's a great guy, nicer than the ones you date anyway."

"Yeah, well I'm not a nice girl, and I know how to handle myself."

"And I don't?" I scoff. "I practically raised my siblings and…helped you when you were lying broken and bleeding in the kitchen, I can handle myself."

"Not about this Mary, exactly how many boyfriends have you even had?"

"Enough to know when I'm going with a guy who'll treat me right."

She sighs and rubs her forehead. "All I'm saying is that Sodapop Curtis is popular with the ladies so don't get to cut up about it when you catch him flirting with another girl."

I furrow my brow and go back to putting napkins in the dispensers. "Hell…I could've told you that myself, Ruth. I mean, it's not like I haven't thought about it."

Ruth nods.

I chuckle. "He's so good looking, he's too good looking for me…shoot, Ruth, how'd I even get a guy like him?"

"There's something about you, I don't even dig chicks but I noticed it."

"Sure," I snort.

"Number one thing when you're dating a stud, don't put yourself down." She elbows me and smiles.

"Ruth…I know you don't want to talk about it…have they caught the guy?"

She stiffens. "No, I doubt they even give a damn. Some moron held up a liquor store the same night, they've got bigger things to worry about."

"This is not a little thing, this guy needs to be caught." I'm angry now, I have a right mind to march down to the station myself and tell them to go door-to-door if they have to. They'd laugh at me, I know they would, and I bet that's what's keeping Ruth from going down there, the chance that she'll be laughed at or humiliated. "Damn cops," I mutter.

"It's not your problem," Her hand shakes so bad she spills grains of salt all over the counter. "Shit."

"I could lock up from now on i-"

"Please, you've got Jo and Bobby at home." She scrubs the counter so hard I think she's going to take some paint off.

"It's not fair that you have to stay here late after what happened."

She shrugs. "I'm covered if anything happens."

"What do you mean?"

"Let's just say if that fucker comes back he'll wind up in a hospital."

It's dark, but that's just how Ruth acts nowadays. She has a right to.

The last customer left half an hour ago. Soda will be picking me up soon. Our houses are in the same direction. I smile when I hear the door open and see him walk in.

He leans over the counter and kisses me. "Hey, Ruth." She nods. "Ready?"

I turn to Ruth. "Are you sure you don't want me to close up? It's not a problem."

She glances at Soda then shakes her head. "You both need to get home."

"Ruth…"

"Mary, _go_."

I smile and give her arm a squeeze before taking Soda's hand and walking to his car.

"Is Ruth OK?" He asks when we are in the car.

I start to think of some excuse, I almost say it's just her time of the month, but the words die in my mouth when I look at him. I could never lie to him. "No."

"What's wrong?"

"A lot of things, she wouldn't want me to tell you."

He nods. "Are you OK?"

"Peachy," I grin at him and he grins back. "How was work?"

"A couple Socs came around, acting like idiots, I can't stand them, Mary."

"They're not worth your time or thoughts, Soda. They'll lay off eventually."

"You sound like Darry." He glances at me. "It ain't fair, I've said it a thousand times, but it ain't."

It's rare to see Soda like this, every once and a while he'll start ranting about the Socs. This time, though, he seems especially upset. It's hard to calm him down because I agree with him, it isn't fair.

"Don't take me home yet, let's go somewhere."

He gives me that look. I haven't really figured out what it means. But I can tell by the way his eyes sparkle and brighten that he sees something, he gets the same look in his eyes when he talks about his brothers and the gang.

We're about thirty minutes away from the east side. Soda backs up to the lake and we sit in the bed of the truck. His back leans against the window, mine against the side so that I can look at him.

"Do you miss them?" It's a stupid question, of course he does, he wouldn't be human if he didn't.

"Yeah," He chews his lip and plays with a loose string hanging from the hem of his jacket. "I just, compare what it's like now to how it was then. Things use to be so…great, when we were all together as a family."

"They'd be proud of you," I poke his leg until he cracks a grin.

"What about you?"

"What about me what?"

"Do you miss your mom?"

My throat aches and I look out at the lake before I get too choked up. "Yeah."

"What about her do you miss?"

"I miss the way we use to talk, I miss the sound of her voice."

We don't talk for a while, both so caught up in our own thoughts and memories we don't notice when an hour has passed. The sky is dark.

Soda shoots me a mischievous grin and hops out of the truck.

"Where are you going?"

He raises his eyebrows and looks out at the water.

"Oh no, no, no, no." He grins even wider and slowly starts to back toward the water. "Soda we are not going swimming, it's too dark."

"I'll turn the car lights on."

"It's cold and I don't want to get my clothes wet. This is stupid let's just go." But I'm grinning too, so hard it's hurting my cheeks, Soda can make me grin like crazy whenever he wants to.

"You know you want to, Mary. Don't be a scaredy cat."

I hop out of the truck and give him a playful shove. "Did you just call me a scaredy cat?" He nods. "Am not."

"Are too."

I cross my arms, and have to hold in a laugh when he does the same and juts out his hip. He's holding back a grin too.

"Stop acting like a five-year-old, I swear I'm talking to my little brother right now."

He sighs. "You're right Mary, I have been very childish, we should just get in the car and drive home."

I give him a suspicious look. "Thank you," I turn around to get in the car, but he grabs me and throws me over his shoulder before I can. "You are such a kid!" I laugh.

After sprinting down the dock, he sets me down at the edge, I'm going swimming whether I like it or not. Soda grins at me. "On the count of three."

"One."

He leans over the edge. "Two."

"Three!" I watch him jump over the side and burst into laughter when he comes to the service glaring at me. I point at him. "Not so cocky now, are you?"

"Jump in you Judas!"

I get a running head start and cannonball into the water. When I come back to the surface, Soda is waiting for me with a kiss.

* * *

The heaters are on full blast. I'm still shivering, not from the cold, from excitement. I'm soaked and dripping all over the Curtis's car. Soda tells me not to worry. I think he's too hyped up to care about consequences anyway. His eyes are glowing and I've never seen him grin so much before, he's laughing and alive. It's the best thing I've ever seen.

"You sure do know how to show a girl a good time."

"Mary, can I tell you something?"

"Anything."

"I mean you're not going to get mad?" He laughs.

"Try me."

"I think I know what your problem is."

I scoff. "What?"

"You worry too much. You can't just let go and have fun."

I smile and shake my head. "Boy howdy, you are a piece of work. So?"

"Well, that's why you need me."

I nod and raise my eyebrow.

"It's like that old Greek myth we learned about in history, my brother's telling me about it all of the time, where that guy has to make those wings out of wax to get away from the evil king."

"Daedalus and Icarus?"

"Yeah. You need me to get you off of the ground and I need you to keep me from flying too close to the sun."

We sit in comfortable silence the rest of the ride back to my house. Every once in a while I'll catch him humming to a song on the radio. He walks me to the door. The lights are still on.

"This was fun."

He nods and leans in to kiss me when the door opens. I turn to see Jo smirking at me with Bobby giggling behind her. She walks out, crosses her arms and eyes us. Bobby mimics her.

"So…what are you two hooligans doing out so late?"

I shake my head in disbelief at them while Soda chuckles.

"Yeah! Hooligans!" Bobby jumps up and down.

Soda bends down so he can look Bobby in the face. "We got held up by a couple of bandits who wanted to kidnap us and sell us out west to the Indians."

Bobby narrows his eyes. "You're lying."

Soda straightens and holds his hands up in mock surrender. "I'm swear it's the truth, they were real live bandits, like Jessie James. We could've used a tough guy like you to straighten 'em out for us."

Bobby grins. "Really?"

Soda nods.

"OK, time for bed." I say.

"Mary..." Bobby whines.

Jo tugs him inside.

"Y'all look alike," Soda says after they have left.

I smile. "Are you going to get in trouble for coming home late?"

"Maybe, but it was worth it." He leans and this time actually does get to kiss me.

He waits till I've walked through the door to leave. What a gentleman. I can't stop grinning and Jo smirks at me.

"He sure was good looking, sissy."

I blush. "Where's dad?"

"He went to bed, he said he wasn't feeling good."

"Did you and Bob eat dinner?" She nods. "OK, bedtime."

She rolls her eyes. "Yes, mother."

I don't pay attention to her biting comment and head to my father's room. The lights are still on, and so is his uniform. He managed to get his shoes off before crashing.

"Dad," I shake him lightly.

"Hey sweetie," He says groggily.

"You don't look to good."

He stands up and yawns and pats my arm. "I'm just tired, I'll be fine."

* * *

**A/N: Hailey98Lynn: Ha! Silly girl. **

**Please tell me what you think!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: This is a pretty short chapter, maybe I was just trying to showcase come of Mary's flaws. The next chapter there will be a buttload of interaction with canon characters.**

**Rated T for language. Enjoy!  
**

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I guess picking up a couple of extra shifts at the Dingo on a Friday, is just asking for trouble. But hell, I need the money to buy my siblings warmer coats for the fast approaching winter. So I suck it up, and keep a cool look on my face when some hood spills his milkshake all over the floor "accidently".

Jesus, why is it so damn crowded? I feel claustrophobic walking in between tables and booths overflowing with people.

"Why are you taking extra shifts?" Ruth had asked me earlier.

"Jo and Bobby don't have any warm clothes, and I can't knit."

She furrowed her brow in concentration, scrutinizing me. I squirmed under her intense gaze. She came toward me and I moved back a little. My jaw dropped when she unbuttoned my uniform enough to show some cleavage.

"What the hell, Ruth?"

She smirked. "That'll earn you some tips, you're welcome."

I sputtered and blushed before quickly buttoning it up as far as it could go. "What if Soda saw me, I can't go around acting like that."

She shrugged. "Suit yourself."

I'm glad she hasn't seen me since. Yes, I've gotten desperate enough to follow her advice, and I try not to roll my eyes at the younger hood clearly staring at my chest. Maybe I shouldn't lean over so much to refill his drink, maybe that's what's been getting me four-dollar tips the past hour.

I walk behind the counter to make the asshole another milkshake. Lisa looks down and then meets my eyes with a raised eyebrow.

"Don't start," I sigh and look around for a can of whipped cream.

"Never thought I'd see the day," She chuckles and tosses one to me. "You should show them off more often." She calls after me and laughs. I groan and slam the milkshake in front of the greasy fellow.

"Thanks, baby." He takes a long satisfied slurp. "What do you say you bend over so I can get a better look?" His friends snicker. I swear there's smoke coming out of my ears.

"Keep dreamin'," I cross my arms and glare at him. "Now are you going to be able to hold on to that, or am I going to have to call your mommy to come feed it to you?"

I regret it as soon as the words leave my mouth. The hood growls at me while his friends egg me on. I don't really care about that part, I just know I can say goodbye to whatever tip they might've left me. I clench my fists and walk back behind the counter. I can still feel his eyes burning a hole through my back as I bring food to another table. I'm not scared of him–he's too stupid to be scared of.

I wish I were out on a date with Soda, or even hanging out with him down at the gas station where he worked. He introduced me to his best buddy, Steve, a smart-mouthed and cocky greaser who is somehow likeable at the same time. Maybe I just appreciate how much he cares about Soda. He's not the only one.

"I don't think we've ever been this crowded before," Ruth mutters as she scrapes the cheese off of a cheeseburger.

I give her a skeptical look. "What's the deal?"

"Just some, fucking asshole hood, who likes to piss off waitresses." She nods towards the back.

"Unless you're talking about the grandma with the eight-year-old, I don't see him."

She groans, grabs my chin and steers my head toward the right table. Three guys sit there, all tough looking, but only one really qualifies as a hood. A towhead with a bad attitude gives the whole place a once over, a shit eating grin plastered to his face. He has a worn leather jacket and cold, mean blue eyes that put me on edge. The other two I'm not too worried about. They do look tough, but like they can't be more than 13 or 14. One has dark, shaggy, greasy hair, and brown puppy dogs eyes. He laughs at something the hood says to him. The other one has auburn hair greased, and squared off in the back. He looks familiar, I swear I've seen him somewhere before.

"Hell, you've dealt with worse." I grin and nudge her with my elbow.

She eyes me uneasily. "Don't hold your breath, that there's Dallas Winston."

I turn back to the hood. Whenever someone says the name Dallas Winston, I picture some dark and dangerous cowboy type guy. I didn't expect the mean, elfish looking boy that sits across the diner from me. Somehow this version is more menacing.

"You going to be OK?"

"Takes more than a couple of spit wads to scare me off."

"Mar, Mar," Our gruff cook, Mike, calls from window of the kitchen. I turn to see an irritated look on his face.

"Yeah?"

"Get me the manager, I need to have a word with that guy."

"About what?"

"Do I have to gossip with you about every damn thing?" He sighs and wipes sweat off of his forehead with a napkin. Mike's a big guy. "About his choice of employment."

I shake my head. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Goldie," He growls. "She hasn't been in all day. I'm fuckin' swamped."

I never knew what the score was with Goldie and Mike. I had always thought of them as a pair, he was big with a buzzed head and piggy face. Goldie was exactly what'd you picture if you thought of someone's small, tough aunt. She was just over five feet with blonde hair and a wrinkled face from smiling and too many cigarettes.

"You going to get her fired?" I ask incredulously.

"More pay for me, 'sides I don't need some little woman telling me how to run things in my kitchen."

"Go tell him yourself, Mike, I like Goldie." I say and walk over to a table I've been serving to collect the tip. It's not very big, but hopefully it will all add up.

"Come on, doll, quit being so uptight." I hear a rough voice say. I turn to see Ruth white faced and clutching a glass tightly. The other greasers are blushing and avoiding eye contact with her.

She's trembling and turns around abruptly nearly knocking me on the ground.

"Woah, Ruth, are you OK?"

She squeezes her eyes shut and shakes her head. "Sorry…could you switch tables with me. It's just…I'm remembering…"

I clench my jaw. "You don't even have to ask." I take the coke she was going to give to them and send her off to get food for a different table.

"Hey what happened to, Blondie, did we scare her off?" Dallas snickers.

"No, I'm your waitress now." I do my best not to show my anger. Best ways to deal with cocky hoods, don't react to them.

"What's her problem, all's I wanted was a proper burger, but she couldn't get the stick out of her–"

"You watch your mouth," I snarl. I never take my own advice.

"Oh yeah? Who's going to make me?"

I get in his face. "I am. You're not going to talk about my friend like that, understand? You do, you'll regret it." I'm stupid. I'm so stupid to be picking a fight with Dallas Winston. Something tells me he's got no problem hitting a girl, and no matter how much I hate to admit it, I wouldn't last a second in a fight against him. But I can't stop myself. It's been a long day and all of my frustration is just coming to the surface. I feel as mean and cold as Dallas Winston, I can't control myself.

"Really, what're you going to do about it, little girl?" He's amused, that only makes me angrier.

"I'll smash this bottle over your head so hard you won't ever be able to see straight again."

"Yeah, right."

"You want a demonstration?"

"Alright, both of you cool it." Lisa puts a hand on my arm holding the Coke. "I don't want to have to call the cops," She gives a pointed look to Dallas. "And you can't lose this job."

I want nothing more than to wipe that shit-eating grin off of Winston's face. But instead I lean in so I can whisper to him. "You got lucky this time. But you listen close and hard, buddy, if I ever catch you pulling shit like that again, in my diner. Your drunk daddy will have a hospital bill so long it'll make your head spin." I slam the Coke down in front of him, I wish it would shatter and spray soda all over his dumb leather jacket.

I head to the back room because I'm starting to feel light headed and embarrassed after seeing all of the people staring at me. I'm a stupid woman, I never lose my cool, and I blew it. I don't need someone like Dallas Winston as an enemy. What I need is to focus on my job so that I can provide for my family. I punch one of the lockers, pain flares in my knuckles but I ignore it. Maybe I'm about to start my period.

"Jesus, what was that?" Ruth asks from the door.

"You're right," I rub my hand. "He was a fucking asshole."

"That was a dumb thing to do, Mary, you could've gotten fired. You could've gotten us all in huge trouble."

"Bud find out?"

She shakes her head. "You better thank the lord you got a friend like, Lisa. That girl can run her mouth till she talks her way out of anything."

"Sorry, Ruth."

"Oh screw it, 'sides, we haven't had anything this exciting happen since–" Her grin falters and she stares at the ground. I know what she was going to say. The night she pulled a switchblade on a guy that threw me on the ground, the night that led to her attack.

"Have they caught the bastard?"

"I swear you ask me everyday, no, they don't give two shits."

I stare at the door even after she leaves. The Dingo is a rough hangout, it wasn't a good idea to get a job here, but I'm a dropout and from the wrong side of the tracks so I didn't have many options. If things keep going the way they are I'm going to have to get a second job. With the bills adding up, and my father falling asleep right when he gets home.

* * *

**A/N: Please tell me what you think!**

**JohnDeereGreen: You'll just have to wait and see...  
**

**Hailey98Lynn: Thanks, girl! I'm sure we can work something out :)  
**


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